


Promises We Make

by QueenPunk



Series: JayTim Week 2021 [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Violence, Creepy Ra's al Ghul, Disordered Eating Habits, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Manipulation, Mild Gore, Murder, Not Beta Read, Rape Aftermath, does this count as, the rape is not between jaytim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 03:47:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30116691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenPunk/pseuds/QueenPunk
Summary: “When I get back,” Jason said, “promise me that we can talk about,” he gestured awkwardly between them,“ this. Please?”
Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd, Tim Drake/Ra's al Ghul
Series: JayTim Week 2021 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2211201
Comments: 18
Kudos: 121
Collections: JayTim Week 2021





	Promises We Make

**Author's Note:**

> Day II: Request? Redemption??? Not sure which prompt this story answers but this is where they both led me. Could also fit the Free Day (III) prompt since it's so long???
> 
> Please be mindful of the tags.

His blood was wrong.

Thick like syrup and colored black until the light hit it at a slant, glistening a slick red on Tim’s hands. He could taste rusted-copper-salt on his tongue, bile pooling up his throat as he fought to not throw up what little drops of that man had entered him. His eyes felt too dry as he sat in a stained bed with the mutilated corpse of Ra’s Al-Ghul lying next to him. 

His whole body ached, a pain radiating from between his legs to his too-tight chest. He had to move. He had to clean up before _they--he--oh no, don’t think--_ the rescue party arrived. His shaking, blood-coated hands grasped the hilt of the knife still sticking out of Ra’s’ eye socket. Not for the first time, he wondered to what extent the Lazarus Pit could resurrect someone. If he set Ra’s on fire, burned him down to dust, could Talia pour the ashes into the sickly-green waters and bring her father back? Would he be reborn as an innocent infant or return as he always has; full-grown and monstrous?

_Oh, beloved, helpless isn’t a good look for you. But, I must do what I must to take--_

_\--take--_

Hands lifting hips.

_\--take--_

Head stuffed with cotton. Limbs loose and uncooperative.

_\--take--_

No, he couldn’t think about that now.

_\--take--_

A slimy, snake tongue lapping up his humiliated tears. 

_\--take--_

Grunting in his ear, fingers playing with his pliant body.

_\--take--_

No, no, no, no, no.

With a great yank, the knife pulled free. It was an ornate Jang Do with a phrase written in hangul inscribed across the blade, the handle carved with the writhing shapes of hundreds of tiny dragons. Ra’s had worn it on his belt, even after he should have _known_ that the sedative was wearing off. Tim knew he had been set up, that Ra’s’ death had been a note in whatever grand plan written out in the Demon’s head. He had always wanted-- _wanted_ _him_ \--him to kill, to break the code Bruce had hammered into him from childhood. 

And he’d crafted the perfect scenario to snap Tim’s morals like a twig.

After showering and dressing in some of the clothes stashed away in the closet--eerily perfect for Tim’s frame--he puzzled over what to do with the body. Batman had to be on his way by now. He wouldn’t care about Tim’s--about Tim’s--about Tim-- _about_ his brief mental breakdown. Tim had panicked in the heat-- _the heat of him pulsing inside_ \--of danger, which they had all been trained to avoid. Stay calm. Stay alive. No guns. Don’t kill. _Never_ kill.

Ra’s was immortal. It shouldn’t matter but _it did._ Ra’s might be walking around right as rain tomorrow--Tim white-knuckled his grip on the knife--but he knew Bruce would forever think of him as a killer if he didn’t clean up the mess before he arrived. 

Tim’s hand hovered over the doorknob, wondering what would happen if he looked for cleaning supplies wherever Ra’s had holed them up in. Shouldn’t the League assassins have come by now to avenge their temporarily dead leader? Perhaps part of the trap or test, Tim surmised as he went into the bathroom. Ignoring the leftover red rimmed around the drain, he soaked one of the luxury bath towels in soapy water. 

Returning to the bedroom, he set to work scrubbing at the sheets. The blood, thick and black and _wrong_ , only seemed to spread out. Deep in his head, a tiny voice told him that what he was doing was insane. He should have chanced the unknown to escape, but creeping anxiety caged him in the room. If he stayed in the quiet place if he fixed the room if he stayed there for a little while longer, he wouldn’t have to face what he had done. Here, with only himself and a dead body, he didn’t have to think about Ra’s ra--

 _No_ . Tim shook his head. He didn’t have to think about Ra’s _tricking_ him and putting him through another test to prove his worth as ‘Detective.’ Dried blood flaked under his nails and he wondered whether he passed or failed. In the pit of his stomach was a sinking dissatisfaction that he had failed to live up to Ra’s’ standards. But then he remembered the multilingual praises purred into his ears, the handprint-shaped bruises on his body unable to be ignored and he wondered if to fail was to pass in Ra’s’ eyes this time. 

Ra’s’s cut-up arm twitched.

Before Tim could register that the arm had moved because of his feverous scrubbing on the mattress, he snatched the knife and buried it into the shoulder. His clouded eyes stung as he struck out like a wild, terrified beast, plunging the knife in over and over. 

A slender hand landed on his shoulder.

Tim froze. He blinked, taking in with distant care that he had nearly severed Ra's’ arm from his body. 

“Timothy,” Talia’s crisp voice drew his attention. She appeared unphased by the violent demise of her father with her usual cool, detached airs. Her hair was slicked back into an intricate bun, her green and gold outfit unruffled, dual broadswords tucked in their sheaths at her hips. She talked, her words not registering. The door behind her was ajar, the shadows of her henchmen shifting. 

“Are you why they didn’t kill me?” he asked, cutting her off mid-sentence. He brought the knife up, tremors wracking his hand, “Did you know about--?”

“No,” Talia said and he couldn’t tell if she was lying. When he narrowed his eyes at her, she lifted a hand. Her fingers brushed against his cheek to pull away wet. He hadn’t even realized he had been crying. “Do you honestly think I would have allowed it if I had known?”

 _Yes_ , he thought but didn’t voice out loud. He knew her awful secrets, her fucked code, how she was as disinterested in consent as Ra's. Nothing good could come from her sympathy, he'd gleaned as much from Ja--

Throat tightening, he struggled to slip into his detached Red Robin mask. 

Her face softened, her stance loosening as she sat down on the bed. Looking into her beautiful face, he understood how Damian could thirst for even a single drop of her attention, how Ja-- _a dark rooftop filled with laughter_ \--Red Hood had been so enamored and manipulated by her, but even then he found himself relaxing. She gestured vaguely in the air, “ I understand this type of situation is rather debilitating. It can be hard to think clearly when one is hurting.”

“Are you really about to sell me on an evil plan right now?” Tim cut in.

Talia arched an elegant brow, “Well, I wouldn’t call it _evil_ , per se. But, yes, I have come to make a trade with you.”

Silence hung heavy in the air for a moment. 

“I’ve made an investment in your life. I terminated my father’s guard to ensure you wouldn’t perish,” Talia said. “All I ask in return is to eliminate my father in his entirety.”

“And?”

“And for you to never speak of this or my involvement.”

Tim contemplated, “Batman--”

“Bruce doesn’t know you’ve been in my father’s care these past three days. My father apparently had protocols to keep him from getting suspicious too soon.”

 _Three days?_ Could it really have been such a short amount of time since he’d been snatched mid-swing?

“Think about it, Timothy,” Talia coaxed, brushing a strand of hair out of his face to tuck behind his ear. A part of him wanted to snap his teeth at her bare wrist for daring while another part wanted to lean into the comforting gesture. She continued, “All of this could go away. No interrogation from Bruce, no Ra’s coming back to dredge up the memory in a month, no having to justify your actions, you could simply...move on. Erase this little side story from your life.”

It was so tempting, the solution she presented. Letting her get rid of Ra’s. Slipping back into Gotham’s seedy streets with none the wiser. Everything in this room turned into an ugly nightmare that he could lock away in the deep crevices of his mind. He wouldn’t have to bear the pitying looks of his family, or worse, _disgust_ and he also wouldn’t have to undergo whatever medical protocol Bruce would insist on. The thought of having to have to go through an entire rape kit that would be documented and tucked away in a useless damn file in the Batcomputer, to rot there with all the others Bruce had collected from the GCPD, made him nauseous.

“All you would have to do,” she murmured, sliding a finger down his arm to lay atop his hand on the knife’s handle, “is look the other way when I dispose of him.”

Talia coaxed him to relinquish the knife into her deadly custody, tucking the blade into her belt. 

“Do we have a deal?”

“Okay.”

。

Since Ra’s had only holed them up in upstate New York, it took less than an hour for Tim to fly back to Gotham. On the private plane ride, he managed to compose himself. He splashed his face with cold water to get rid of his puffy eyes and the red splotches across his face. A dark bruise bloomed at a high point on his neck, but that was the only outward sign of what had happened. 

It was still daylight when he stepped into his apartment, everything cluttered and messy and familiar. A new layer of dust accumulated but otherwise the same. He set a new pot of coffee dripping and picked up his recent case files. Crime hadn’t stopped when he was indisposed, he needed to get a jump on things he missed. 

He also needed to patrol the dark maze of the city tonight. Jas-- _a hand cupping his face, thumb stroking his bottom lip_ \--Red Hood was in Argentina on an Outlaw case with Roy and Artemis. His Emotional Support Redheads, as Hood had put it before he’d left. Tim had laughed and they had landed on a rooftop, Red Hood pulling his helmet off to reveal a sweet grin. He had asked Tim to watch over his usual patrol route while he was gone. He had asked Tim if--

Tim gulped scalding coffee from the pot, the hot, bitter burn grounding him. 

He patrolled. The aches from earlier were ignored in favor of gliding across the city, the Spring winds stinging his cheeks. He took a detour at the end of the night to do what he did best; trail Batman and Robin. They were having a quiet end to their patrol, Batman even ruffling Robin’s hair as they perched on a pair of gargoyles. Robin hid his pleased smile with little success. A hollowness grew in Tim’s chest as he watched the affectionate display. So many words he wanted to say died on his tongue. He grappled away unnoticed.

Tim fell into a spiral of casework over the next three weeks. He tore through a five-year-old cold case, busted a drug ring, cyber-drained a bank account of a mafioso, and replaced sleep with energy drink spiked caffeine. His heart battered under his skin at a wound-up pace, pounding in his ears, and his hands trembled more often than not. His thoughts not preoccupied with work buzzed like nervous bees that occasionally collided to spark a cold-sweat-inducing memory of _Ra’s, Ra’s, Ra’s_. 

。

“Hitting it a little hard lately?” Dick asked one night when they were in the Bat Cave together. He reached to snatch the Redbull out of Tim’s hands. Tim deftly avoided him, chugging the rest of the drink. 

“I’ve been busy,” Tim said, tossing the crushed can across the room. It spun along the rim of the trash before crashing to the cave floor. “But, I’ve got it all under control.”

Dick left his concerns alone for now, although he did pester Tim for more team-ups between Nightwing and Red Robin. Tim agreed to a couple of low-stakes patrols but drew the line when Dick started to get too mother hen-ish about the chaos in Red Robin’s Nest. 

。

On the twentieth day, Tim woke up from a nightmare-ridden catnap to a text from Jason.

_Hey, babybird. Can we meet up to continue our last convo?_

Tim stared at his phone. 

A lump formed in his throat.

The last time he had seen Jason was the night before his _ordeal._

They had landed on a rooftop, Tim laughing at Jason’s dumb quip like a crushing schoolboy. Jason had taken his helmet off, raking a hand through his sweat-damp curls, a sweet grin on his face. They were in the black shadow of another building, as alone as two vigilantes could be. Jason had gripped his elbow, his other hand coming up to cup Tim’s face. His gloved thumb had ghosted over Tim’s lower lip as he had murmured _Babybird_ to Tim whispering _Jay._

The beeping of Jason’s phone had halted them from leaning in. He needed to leave ASAP, according to the aforementioned redheads.

“When I get back,” Jason said, “promise me that we can talk about,” he gestured awkwardly between them,“ this. Please?”

And Tim had grabbed Jason by the collar, yanking him down to plant a kiss on his stubbled cheek. It had been worth it to see the big, bad Red Hood stumble before grappling away. As Tim had turned, he had spotted one of the League’s spies leaving the rooftop opposite of the one he stood on. 

_Ah,_ Tim had thought like an overconfident dumbass. _I guess it’s that time of the year for Ra’s to show up to challenge the ‘Detectives’._

Tim set his phone screen down on his counter. He took in a shaky breath and went back to work, leaving the phone behind.

。

While entering DNA samples for analysis in the Bat Cave a couple of days later, Damian’s imperious voice announced from behind him, “That moronic Todd has returned.”

Tim turned around to see Damian standing like a mini-drill sergeant; back straight, arms folded at the small of his back, arrogant green eyes filled with disdain. The al Ghul green eyes. Tim focused his gaze instead on Damian’s thick brows, the furrow from his scowl lining his forehead.

“He has been asking about you,” Damian said. “You should answer his texts before he becomes even more insufferable to be around."

"I'm busy," was all Tim said in response. 

"Are you angry at Todd?" Damian sniffed. "I would expect you two rejects to get along better, considering…"

"Considering what?" Tim waited for whatever nasty response Damian would come up with. 

Damian shifted, uncertain, before squaring his shoulders as he proclaimed, "Considering the two of you have entered a sexual relationship of convenience." 

Tim stared blankly at him with wide eyes. Ice pooled in his stomach, spreading into his veins at a glacial pace. A beat too late, he asked, “How did you come to that conclusion?”

Damian looked smug, pleased that he had discovered something that no one else knew. Even at fourteen, there was babyfat clinging to his cheeks and at that moment he appeared more like a child than he had at eight. _He’s not being malicious_ , Tim reminded himself, _for once_. But he was struck by the urge to lash out, to make him shut up and take his words back when Damian said:

“I saw you two on a rooftop. How would Grayson put it? Ah, yes, the two of you were _canoodling_ and leaving yourselves open to attack. I left before anything carnal could occur.”

“We didn’t--” Tim cut in to defend himself and Jason. His hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“That nasty love mark on the side of your neck,” Damian tapped at the location on his own body, “a few days later certainly indicated that you harlots _did._ ”

Even though the mark was long gone, Tim tugged and held the collar of his t-shirt over the spot it had been. He must have slipped once during those first days after his return and out of everyone it had to be _Damian_ who caught on. A hysterical bubble ballooned in his chest, pressing tight to his ribcage. Damian was expecting a rebuke, an explanation, a bickering fight _._ What could Tim possibly say? He couldn’t lie and say Jason had fucked him, he couldn’t tell Damian that his grandfather was even more of a monster than he knew, he couldn’t say it had been some stranger without making him look even more like a slut in his eyes. Not to mention he had _murdered_ Ra’s and was complicit in Talia permanently disposing of the man. 

A sharp fingernail pinched into his neck. The whole situation was fucking _hilarious_.

“Not a love mark,” he grumbled, staring off into the dark recesses of the cave where bats chirped and flitted about. “I’ve gotta go. Yeah, uh, I forgot I have somewhere else to be right now.”

“What?” Damian squawked, deflating as Tim didn’t rise to the bait. He glanced at the computer, the running analysis, the files open of cases Tim was working on. “You can’t leave now! What else could possibly be more important than--”

Shouldering past him, Tim snarled, “Getting away from you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Damian stiffen like Tim had punched him in the gut. Swallowing down his guilt, Tim dropped his gaze to the floor and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. He could work on the cases at the Nest. Once he was in the Nest, he could plan accordingly to get Damian to leave him alone and how to deal with the Jaso--

Climbing up the stairs, Tim ran into someone. Calloused hands gripped his shoulders to prevent him from losing his balance.  
“Tim?”

No, no, no, no, no. Not right now. 

“Get back here, Drake!” Damian yelled.

“Yikes,” Jason said, keeping his hands on Tim’s shoulders. The heat of them kept the chill of fear away, but not the anxious restlessness. “Haven’t seen the demon brat that pissed off in a while.”

“It’s my fault,” Tim admitted. Jason had a bandage wrapped around his bicep, peeking out from underneath his black Gotham Knights shirtsleeve. “I should go.”

“Good call,” Jason said, wrapping an arm over Tim’s shoulder as he changed course to go upstairs with him. “Wouldn’t want you to get gutted before we have a chance to talk.”

He heard Jason rake a hand through his hair, “If you even still want to. I’d understand if you didn’t. S’all cool, no matter what you wanna do, babybird.”

Jason’s arm started to lift off of Tim. Panicking, Tim grasped his wrist with both hands. They stopped before reaching the entryway into the house. Jason tilted his head down to peer at Tim’s face with concern. He knew Jason, he knew that he was waiting for Tim to turn him down and break his heart. He knew that the smart thing to do would be to rip the bandaid off and let Jason go. But even still, Tim didn’t _want_ to. What he wanted was for everything to be normal again.

“We can talk,” Tim said, turning to press his face into Jason’s forearm. “Just not here, okay?”

。

 _What are you doing, Tim?_ he questioned himself when they stepped into his apartment. Tim always had a plan, a back-up plan, a back-up plan to the back-up plan, but he was flying blind right now. Jason, unlike Dick, didn’t comment on the dirty coffee cups stacked in his sink or the overflowing trash can filled with energy drink cans. 

But he did ask, “When was the last time you ate?”

Tim vaguely remembered eating an entire stacked package of saltine crackers two nights ago, falling asleep at his desk, shuddering awake after a nightmare, and then vomiting up the contents of his stomach. Instead of telling Jason that, Tim lied, “Last night I had pizza.”

“Uh-huh,” Jason nodded, seeing straight through him. His eyes flicked up and down, taking in Tim from head to toe. Tim shuffled, crossing his arms over his chest. “And last night I ate filet mignon with the Queen.”

“Sounds like a fine feast,” Tim quipped with a wry grin. “Did you sneak a slice to the corgis? Or were you having dinner with a different Queen?”

Jason grinned, coming to stand closer to him. He reached out a hand as if to caress Tim’s face like he had last time, but retreated. Clearing his throat, his cheeks reddening, Jason said, “So, I guess we should, y’know, talk?”

“Yeah,” Tim agreed. 

Tim hopped to sit on the last free space of his counter left. While he settled himself, Jason talked with his face progressively getting redder, “Well, um, I really, really like you, Tim. A lot. I have for a while and I didn’t think you felt the same but that night…”

He trailed off, coming to stand between Tim’s thighs. Tim looped his arms around Jason’s neck. Something inside of him broke from how _right_ and _good_ it felt to have him in his arms. Small shivery bursts rippled over his skin and he hoped Jason interpreted them as anticipation.

“That night,” Jason continued, his eyes a mosaic of blue and green with a few flecks of amber-gold lost in the mix. “ I sure as hell wanted to kiss you. It seemed like you wanted to kiss me, too, babybird.”

“I did,” Tim confessed. “I still do.”

So he did. Closing his eyes, he kissed Jason on his soft, plush lips, wrapping his legs around his waist to pull him in. Jason grasped him at his hip and on one of his thighs, fingers digging tight into his flesh. Tim could do this. He could be normal. He sighed in relief when Jason licked into his mouth; a desperate, gentle exploration. 

_Ra’s hadn’t been big on kissing._

Tim whimpered. He nipped at Jason’s bottom lip, drawing a groan out of him. He slipped probing fingers under the collar of Jason’s shirt, dragging his bitten-to-the-quick nails over the taut skin. Shameless, Tim ground his hardening cock against Jason’s abs. Slitting his eyes open, he could see Jason as a blurry abstract, light bordering the edges of him. 

_The drugs made everything blurry, they transformed Ra’s into what he truly was; a Demon._

He clung to Jason’s broad frame, flush chest to chest, heads bent close as they breathed the same air and kissed each other senseless. Jason’s hands traveled up his back, tracing the shift of muscles. One hand swooped to Tim’s front, ghosting over a pebbled nipple as he moved to cup Tim’s face. Tim chased his mouth as he pulled away to murmur, “You alright?”

Tim hummed, leaning in for more, but then Jason’s thumb stroked the fragile skin under his eyes. He asked, “Are you crying, babybird?”

“What? No?” Tim opened his eyes, felt the wet streaks cooling on his cheeks. His sight swam with unfocused colors. A harsh tremor wracked his body as his reassurance sounded close to a sob, “I’m fine.”

“If you don’t want to do this,” Jason fretted, moving as if to step back but Tim kept his legs locked to keep him close. “We don’t have to, we can move a hell of a lot slower if you want.”

“I don’t want to move slower,” Tim insisted, pressing open-mouthed kisses up the column of Jason’s throat. He paused to lick and suck at a spot just behind his ear, determined to leave his mark. “In fact, I think we could move a hell of a lot faster.”

Jason cupped the back of his head, threading his fingers through the long, black strands, letting Tim do what he wanted. He spoke in a soothing croon, “Yeah, you see I’d believe that more if I couldn’t feel your tears soaking through my shirt right now. What’s the matter, babybird?”

“Nothing,” Tim snapped, stealing a kiss from Jason’s lips. He was pliant for a few seconds, even placing his other hand at the small of Tim’s back as he rutted against him. But then he pried him away, grabbing Tim’s wrists and holding them up.

_He had been unbound the entire time, his limbs merely strings for Ra’s to twist him into each desired position._

Tim jerked violently in his hold, Jason releasing him immediately. Jason looked alarmed and confused and this wasn’t how this was supposed to go. Jason was supposed to come back and they’d talk and kiss and solve cases and go on dates and obnoxiously make-out for weeks on end while they were in their honeymoon stage. Tim would coax Jason into the bedroom, take him apart slowly in every wicked way he knew how. It would have been so easy and good and Ra’s ruined him. 

Tim couldn’t even kiss his new partner without crying like an overemotional headcase.

He wrapped his arms around himself, leaning forward to rest his forehead on Jason’s chest. Jason brought his arms around Tim, fingers tracing soothing patterns onto the bare skin at the back of his neck.

“Whatever it is,” Jason murmured, lips brushing his ear, “you can tell me.”

“If I tell you,” Tim said on impulse, the tremors happening more frequently. He struggled to parse what he wanted to say, what he wanted to reveal. He already felt naked and vulnerable, he didn’t think all of his secrets could pass from his lips without breaking him. He repeated, “If I tell you, will you promise me that you will never tell anyone?”

“I promise, babybird.”

“I killed Ra’s al Ghul.”

**Author's Note:**

> ...I wrote this in like two days with no beta (because I'm an idiot). Please have mercy on me.


End file.
